Kaitou's ABC's
by DireSphinx
Summary: Twenty-six stories centering around Kaitou Kid, aka Kuroba Kaito. One for every letter of the alphabet. Letter W: White. The walls are white.
1. Letter A: Accent

Okay minna-san, here's the 411. This is my challenge to myself to write and complete a multi-chaptered story. So of course I'm not going to take it easy and try for three or five chapters. No, I'm gonna try for twenty-six. (_Darn plot bunny that wants to play with the alphabet. I think I might be biting off more than I can chew. Wait a minute, what's this "think"? I know I'm biting off more than I can chew._) I warn you that I might not accomplish this goal in an short amount of time, so be prepared for waits. _Please don't hurt me!_ And every chapter will center around a theme starting with a certain letter of the alphabet. But on the plus side, I have picked out the themes and have a few plots in mind, so the first few chapters should come out somewhat quickly.

Oh, and I think you'd best be prepared for humor. Lots and lots of humor. Kaito tends to bring out my outrageous and sarcastic side. And wish me luck please. I'll need it.

And unfortunately, I am not Japanese. Therefore, I cannot be a mangaka. Therefore, I could not have written Detective Conan. Therefore, I could not own the rights to Detective Conan. Therefore, I could not be making any money off of Detective Conan. Therefore, I can only annoy my readers with my use of therefores. Therefore, I think I'll stop before someone hurts me.

* * *

Letter: A

Theme: Accent

Summary: "Strange," Hakuba muttered to himself. "What are all these girls doing outside my house?"

* * *

"Strange," Hakuba muttered to himself. "What are all these girls doing outside my house?" Here it was nearing six o'clock in the evening, sunset fast approaching the Tokyo skyline, and a rather large conglomerate of females had gathered outside his residence. Merely twenty minutes ago it had been the typical gathering of fan girls, but now the numbers were encroaching more unruly mob measurements.

He couldn't be certain, but he was sure he recognized a few of those girls out in the crowd. That giddy girl on the left had more than a striking similarity to Keiko-san, and he could have sworn the blond in the front waving the British flag was the Suzuki heir. Then there was a young miss towards the back who seemed to be arguing fervently with...was that the son of Chief Inspector Hattori? And those amethyst tresses surrounded by a gaggle of male admirers – Koizumi-san? Next he'd see Mouri-san's daughter in the crowd, never mind the fact that she lived on the other side of the city.

...and there she was by the gates holding on to Edogawa-san's hand. Huh. That boy certainly didn't look happy to be standing there at this time of night. He appeared to be tugging on the girl's hand, trying to drag her away from his lawn; emphasis on the trying, but she was standing firm, if not a little annoyed at his persistence.

Hakuba could relate with the boy's aggravation. He certainly wouldn't want to be stuck in the middle of that fangirl flock. Which brought his initial question back to the forefront, _What are all these girls doing here? It would be one thing if this was a Kid heist, but that pesky magician's next robbery isn't for another two weeks. But I shouldn't put it past Kuroba to send out heist notes only to the female populace. _A subtle riffle of cards echoed in the background, breaking up his inner musings.

_Ah, speak of the Devil and he shall appear. _Turning around, Hakuba was greeted with the sight of one Kuroba Kaito, your everyday high school student, magician extraordinaire, _or so Kuroba would have the world believe_, and international criminal Kaitou Kid 1412, _which he would prove one of these days goddammit, _leaning against the door frame shuffling one of his many decks. No one knew how many decks Kuroba carried on him at all times, but the amounts Hakuba had witnessed were enough to give him a splitting migraine. The things Kuroba could do with cards...it didn't bear thinking about.

What Hakuba could bear thinking about, well, that was another matter. Like the matter of one particular magician's existence in his personal study, and the masses trampling his front yard. A sneaky suspicion twinkled in the back of his mind. _Would he really...?_

_...Well, duh. This is Kuroba Kaito. He isn't known as the Terror of 3-B for nothing. But the question is, did he? Hmm. He does seem a bit too smug for my liking. And the timing couldn't be more than mere coincidence. Well Kuroba? Care to indulge my curiosity?_

Schooling his features into a mask of cultured annoyance, Hakuba wearily addressed the other occupant in the room. "Kuroba, while in all honesty I should be upset at this blatant trespassing, and believe me, I am rather peeved at your utter disregard for private property, I am willing to forget your transgressions if you'll answer me one question. Did you do this?"

"What, the clothes?" Kaito smirked. "While I do admit to dying them a nice shade of vermilion, I'm afraid I am in no way responsible for your choice in tweed."

Looking down, Hakuba noticed the wardrobe malfunction. Deciding it was best not to ask when this occurred, Hakuba went on with his questioning. "No, I mean _this,_" and here he waved his arms to encircle the ever increasing mass of estrogen outside.

Kaito looked out the window, apparently noticing the women for the first time. "Oh, the broads? Nope, not my doing," the magician cheekily replied.

"Then what are they doing outside on my front lawn?"

"You really don't know?"

Hakuba leveled Kaito with a withering stare. "If I knew why Kuroba, I wouldn't be asking you."

"Tantei-kun, it's the accent," Kaito replied like the answer should be obvious.

"...What?"

Kaito ogled Hakuba in a manner similar to a man beholding a new alien species. "You do realize you have a British accent, don't you?"

"Yes, I spent most of my life growing up in England. I should have an accent. But what does this have to do with anything?"

"Okay Tantei-kun, you're a detective correct? What is the major appeal to girls about foreign men?"

"…..They're foreign? How should I know? I may be a detective Kuroba, but I am no closer than any other male in deciphering the female intellect." Hakuba was getting increasingly frustrated with the magician. _Could he please make his point already! _

_Sigh._ "It's the accents. Girls love foreign accents, especially British ones. Why, I don't know. You might try asking them."

"But one thing doesn't make sense. Well actually, a lot of things about this situation don't make sense, but I've had this accent all my life. Why are these young ladies only noticing now?" It seemed an appropriate enough question.

"Apparently the author only realized this fact ten minutes ago."

Both men pondered that response. Then made an unspoken agreement not to think those words through to their natural conclusions. It would only lead to headaches neither one wished to endure. So instead, Hakuba posed a distraction.

"Okay then, why isn't Nakamori-san out in the crowd? If my accent makes me a 'chick magnet,' where is she?" _Ha! Take that thief!_

"Well," here Kaito smirked, "You may have the power of the accent, but I've got something much more enticing."

An air of foreboding settled amongst the bookshelves.

"Oh? And what's that?" _Dare I ask..._

Rather nonchalantly Kaito replied, "Fuzzy pink handcuffs and a leather whip."

Silence.

Hakuba face-planted against the panes.

"You did ask."

* * *

I blame Love Actually. End of story. Watch it and you'll understand.


	2. Letter N: Now

Okay, sorry for the delay! My muse demanded I work on other fics in progress, and then Zombie Heiji had to come and dance like Michael Jackson in my mind. Scary, huh? But I haven't given up on this - I am trying! And yes, this is not in alphabetical order. What? You expected Kaito to proceed in a logical order? Silly readers, tricks are for Kids! Oh my god, that totally works. Now visions of a crackfic with Trix and Kaito dance in my head. Save me.

And exnay on the owningbay of Kaitoay. Oi vey.

* * *

Letter: N

Theme: Now

Summary: There's only this one moment - make it count.

* * *

It's a scene from his worst nightmares. The time is midnight, on the top of some building, any building. He can't remember the name. The sky looks to be set on fire, the lights from below blazing in all their artificial glory. It's nearly blinding in its magnificence. _Nearly._ But he's sorely distracted by the horror ahead.

Teetering on the edge, eyes drowning in malevolence, is Him. That damnable bastard, murderer, black-hearted cutthroat. The man to whom no quarter shall be given, nor sin absolved. Destroyer of lives, stealer of innocence. The man who dragged him into this half-life of shadows and deceit. Snake. And he's holding his whole world hostage.

Feet clinging to the crumbling concrete, body tilted perilously over the edge, shackled hands clutched in his iron fist, is a girl. The girl. His girl. Aoko. His Aoko. She's crying, tears cascading from those sapphire gems the world calls eyes. Her mouth, that pouty perfect mouth, is trembling, yet she utters no sound. The gun digging into her temple sees to that. Her lithe body is trying to balance itself, creep away from the cliff, but Snake forces her to remain in her precarious stance. One wrong move, one slight push or misstep and it's over. Gravity wins and she goes splat. He refuses to let that happen.

Snake's calling for him now, the poisonous viper, taunting him in his menacing hiss, as he holds onto his prize. But he's not paying any attention to the brute's words. He already knows what the bastard wants. He hasn't taken his eyes off it since he landed on this god-forsaken roof. The scarlet demonic glow is visible between his tightly clenched fingers. After so long, so many late nights and close calls, tears and fears, sweat and blood, lies, deceit and trickery, he's finally found it. Pandora. That improbable, impossible gem. It actually exists. He'd laugh if it was funny, but it's not. Nothing's funny anymore. Not with Aoko hanging in the balance.

He needs to concentrate. Snake's making his demands, pushing Aoko over the brink. She's barely stable - she's dead if he lets go. Focus. He wants Pandora. Kaito doesn't have to be a genius to figure out why. Snake's only killed his father and nearly killed him to obtain the damned thing.

He also wants him to remove his hat and monocle. That, he wasn't expecting. It's one thing to unmask for Snake. He doesn't give a damn what the bastard thinks or sees. But Aoko doesn't know. He doesn't want her to know, not like this. He doesn't want to hurt her. He hesitates. In that brief moment, Snake cocks the hammer. The subtle click echoes in the night like the gunshot it will become. _Shit_. He throws off his masks.

A near silent gasp escapes her lips. Aoko's eyes widen in horror, confusion, possibly shock. _Possibly? Try definitely_. The tears run anew. Her mouth forms silent words. Kaito. Kaitou. Kaitou Kid. How. Why. No. No no no. He wishes he wasn't quite so proficient at lip-reading. Her pain is palpable, plain for all to see, but there's nothing he can do now. Later, after this is all over, maybe he can salvage something. But not now. Not with a bullet eight inches from her brain.

It's a damnable situation. Damned if you do, damned if you don't. Either way he loses. But he can't afford to lose this. Not to him. Snake wants the jewel. Wants him to put it on the ground and step away. Then he'll release the girl. Like he'll keep his promise. There's no way he'll let the girl live. He knows it, Kid knows it, Aoko probably knows it as well. That's not an option. No one gets hurt – his motto. His promise. His vow. One he refuses to break, especially now.

He's got one shot at this. Better make it count.

Nonchalantly he shrugs, and mind whirling behind Poker Face, agrees to Snake's demands. The jewel, free from his concealing fingers, radiates under the bloody moon. Scarlet waves dance in an aurora borealis in his palm. It's bewitching. Snake's entranced. Good. He lays down the gem with his right hand.

One of the first rules of showmanship is to never let the left hand know what the right hand is doing. It's an homage to misdirection. Keep your audience focused on one hand so they won't see the farce committed by the other. It's what he's done countless times before, and what he does again. As he lays down the gem with his right hand, his left hand whips out his card gun, lining up the shot. He prays Pandora is a big enough distraction to delay a trigger response. He'll never forgive himself if it isn't.

It is. The ace of spades connects with the barrel of Snake's gun, knocking it out of alignment from Aoko's head. A second too late, the gun goes off. In that same second, so does Aoko.

For one brief moment, time slows to a crawl. Everything moves in slow motion. Her feet scramble for purchase that's not there, hand-cuffed hands grope for an edge that's tantalizingly just out of reach. Her eyes widen as she falls over the brink. A whisper escapes her lips – an entreaty and plea. A name. His. Then her head's below the horizon and the moment is lost. Time speeds up.

She's fallen over the edge. According to Newton, an object's acceleration due to gravity is 32.2 ft/s². A single story is typically around ten feet in height. So for every second, she falls a little over three stories. Humans typically can't survive a fall beyond four stories. He has no idea how many floors the building has. He knows it's more than four.

Snake's bringing his gun around. Time to move.

Raising his card gun once more, the king of hearts, the suicide king, streaks forth, clipping against Snake's carotid artery. He's out like a light. No time to enjoy the victory though - he has to make every second count.

He sprints for the edge, those last few feet where Aoko disappeared, hoping and praying he's not too late. Reason argues in his mind – it's been too long, he'll never reach her. His hang glider is built to accommodate one, not two people. The added weight would exceed its maximum load-bearing capacity, resulting in excessive deformations and structural failure. It could break in half and send them both plummeting to their deaths. Even if it doesn't, the strain on the frame would make it nigh impossible to maneuver, gain any sort of lift before they reach the ground. They could crash straight into the side of a building, and then fall to their dooms. Scientific facts pile up one on top of the other, screaming the truth he does not want to acknowledge. It's suicide to try. It's impossible.

Eight inches from the edge. One more step. He can see the ground below, the crowds waiting for his flight, the searchlights trained on Aoko's falling path. She falling fast. It'll take a miracle to reach her.

_It's impossible._

His eyes connect with hers, a million words conveyed through a single glance. She's screaming in the free fall, her hands stretched out towards him, reaching for safety. Reaching for him. There's no hesitation.

_Nothing's impossible for the Kaitou Kid._

He leaps.


	3. Letter M: Mistake

Ugh, finals. They's a not good for writing fanfics. And end up givin's a me a strange accent. But Dynamics, it's a done. Hallelujah! Now goes a reads an enjoy, ya hear?

NO, me no owns the Kaito. But me's a owns the accent. Or Jar Jar. Me's a not sure.

* * *

Letter: M

Theme: Mistake

Summary: This wasn't supposed to happen. Not here, not now. Not like this.

* * *

This wasn't supposed to happen. Not here, not now. Not like this.

Sprawled, (splattered really) across the pavement are the remains of an unfortunate accident. A mishap. A mistake. One with dire consequences.

Oogawa searches the victim's pockets for identification (at least, the ones he could find). Strange, the man doesn't carry a wallet. Nor a driver's license or a student ID. Not even a subway pass or cellphone. Who is this person? Surely someone knows who he is.

A retching noise catches his attention. Hakuba Saguru,face unnaturally pale is looking on the scene in blanched horror. Who let the kid in? His eyes are glued on the pulpy masses oozing over the sidewalk.

"Hakuba-kun, why don't you head on to the station?" he states in a comforting tone. The shock of this attack at a Kid heist must have really shaken him up. "We can handle this."

He merely shakes his head, never looking away from the crime scene. He opens his mouth to speak, but swallows a gulp instead. "Hakuba-kun? Are you okay?"

Another shake of the head. Jesus, this can't be good.

He discovers the severed right arm. _Lord have mercy... It's almost like he was pulled apart. I won't be forgetting this anytime soon._ Something is still clutched within a bloody fist. He pries the fingers away one by one until the object is revealed.

It's a box. Small, square, of the velvet variety. A jeweler's box.

A feeling of foreboding settles in his gut. There's probably nothing in there that will tell them who this mystery man is, but he finds himself reluctant to pop the top. Chiding himself for his hesitation, he wrenches open the box more harshly than he intended. The top flips up with a cringing _Crack!_ He looks down, Hakuba peering over his shoulder. Both freeze. And unbeknownst to the anxious crowds, two mens' worlds fall apart.

Inspector Nakamori oversees the cleanup situation. It's damned depressing, a murder at the end of a Kid heist. Well, not really heist since the thief never showed up. Peculiar. Damned peculiar. But this slaughter would have distracted anyone from flights of foolery. Dammit all. He'd take a Kid heist over a homicide investigation any day. At least no one gets hurt at a Kid heist. His eyes rake over the bloodbath. _Well, almost never. _

What he wouldn't give for a cigarette right now. Or a fifth of Jack Daniel's. This is the type of scene only copious amounts of alcohol can wash clean. Perhaps Oogawa would be willing to stop at the bar after this is done. He won't be sleeping sober tonight if at all, that's for sure. And thinking of Oogawa, where is he? Raising his voice to be heard over the lingering crowds, Nakamori bellows out, "Oogawa, report! What have you located on the identity of the deceased?" He waits, but the gruff voice of his lieutenant never replies.

The Inspector pans the crime scene. Task Force helmets reflect the orange glow of streetlights as they collect evidence and scattered body parts, but his lieutenant's badge number is not among them. He swallows the bile rising in his throat. _No one should be delivered home in pieces. Dammit all, no one should be blown to pieces in the first place! I'm just glad Aoko decided to stay away this time – Kuroba had damn well better be behaving with my daughter. He's getting a little too cozy if you ask me._

A patch of blond makes its way into his periphery. _Hakuba? Shit! What's the damned kid doing here? __Okay, stupid question. Why wouldn't he be here? He's only worse than a damn mutt sticking his nose into everyone's business. But dammit all, this is not Kid business. He shouldn't be exposed to this carnage. Detective or not, he's still just a kid! I don't want him involved in this bloodbath._ Nakamori starts making his way through the crowd. _I'll send him home myself if I have to!_

All too soon, he's by Hakuba's side. The boy is kneeling down, peering over his lieutenant's shoulder. Both have yet to notice his presence. They're as motionless as statues, mortals caught unawares in Medusa's gaze, bound in stone forevermore. An aura of abject horror, shock, and dismay emanates from the two, but this hardly registers in the inspector's mind. "Hakuba, what the hell are you doing here?"

Hakuba doesn't respond. At all. This frightens the Inspector more than he cares to admit. "Hakuba?" he questions, in a more panicked tone than he wished to convey. "Hakuba?"

Still no response. It's like the boy's deaf to the world. He grabs his shoulder and gives it a good shake. "Boy, are you alright?"

Hakuba comes to with a start. "What?" He swiftly turns about, and seeing the Inspector, his face goes from pale to stone. While a nice change from smug arrogance, it's not a look which inspires confidence. "Inspector, hello." He swallows, and the Inspector almost thinks he sees tears in the boy's eyes. But that's impossible. Hakuba Saguru, cry? "What have we learned?"

Nakamori snorts. "That's none of your business. Boy, you look like shit. I don't care who your father is or how great a detective you are, this is no place for a kid. Go home. That's an order." He turns to his lieutenant. "Oogawa, report. Have we confirmed the identity of the deceased?" His lieutenant's face drains of color like he has never seen before, and hopes never to see again. The man looks like a grieving corpse. Those instincts buried in the back of his brain are screaming out in peril. Whatever the answer is, it's not pretty. "Oogawa?"

"Well sir, we have a possible identification of the deceased," he chokes on the d word, "but nothing confirmed at this moment in time." It comes across like a death sentence.

Goosebumps race down the Inspector's arms. "Who do we think it is?"

"Sir it's...we think it might be...that is, the only person we can think of who it could be is..." There are tears streaming down his lieutenant's face. That terror clawing inside the Inspector's gut won't let go. Hakuba is as silent as the grave, but his whole body is trembling. The unflappable Hakuba Saguru is trembling with repressed emotion. That shakes him to the core. Gods and angels, who do they think it is?

"Well, spit it out already! Who is it?"

Hakuba's harsh whisper and Oogawa's choked sobs spit out one name. Nakamori feels the world come out from under his feet. His first reaction is disbelief. It's just not possible. I'ts Just Not Possible. An outpouring of biting rage worms its way into his brain. Good. Anger is preferable to the alternative. He gets mad. "This is no time for fucking jokes! Now tell me, who is he?"

Oogawa just shakes his head while a tear traitorously makes it way down Hakuba's face. This is no joke. This isn't a fucking joke. How? It can't be, it simply can't be...

"Why him? Why do you think it's him? It could be someone else – you said yourself that the man's identity hasn't been confirmed. What makes you so sure it's him? He's supposed to be out with Aoko this evening, said he was taking her somewhere nice for once, there's no way it could be him..." He realizes he's rambling at this point, but somehow he refuses to care. This is one matter in which he cannot be calm.

Oogawa merely holds out his hand. Resting in his palm is a small square box. His heart freezes in his chest. With a shaking hand, he reaches for the offered evidence. It's a jewelry box, black velvet, golden hinge on one edge. One of those flip open boxes. Distantly, he hears his cell phone ringing. Unthinkingly, he picks it up out of his pocket and flips it open while his other hand thumbs open the box. One glance is all it takes. _Oh God..._

"Daddy? Daddy, this is Aoko – have you seen Kaito around? He was supposed to meet me at eight for dinner, but he never showed. Stupid, baka Kaito. Is he with you? I know how much he likes Kaitou Kid, so I thought he might have gotten sidetracked at the heist and lost track of time. It would be just like him to run off at the first sign of the thief. I can't get a hold of him, but if you see him, tell him he'd better have a good excuse for standing me up or he'll find out just how proficient I am in mop-fu...Daddy? Daddy, you there?"

_No, heavens no..._

"Daddy? Daddy, are you okay?"

"_No..._"

"Huh? Daddy? Dad, what's wrong? Are you okay? Did you get hurt?"

"..."

"Daddy? Dad, you answer me right now, are you hurt?"

"..."

"Okay, I'm coming down there. Hold on, I'll be there as fast as I can."

"...What?"

"._.click.._"

The Inspector's mind is slow to restart. He's lost somewhere out past the Milky Way, his thoughts a jumble of whirling emotions blazing round at the speed of light. He tries to shut his emotions out, distance himself from the situation at hand, but that one box holds him hostage. There's no breaking away. He has no clue who that was on the phone. He should check, give his apologies, but not now. Grief holds him fast and tight. Why him? Why now? Why like this?

Damn him. Damn Him! He wasn't supposed to be here. For God's sake, he was supposed to be with Aoko! What the hell was he doing here? A Kid heist is no excuse – there's no excuse for him lying splattered over half a city block. What sick, twisted fuck did this to him? He wouldn't do this to himself, that's for sure. Especially if he was carrying this.

...And oh shit, _how's he supposed to tell Aoko?_

Nakamori tears his eyes away from that damnable box and looks up at the lieutenant and brat. They seem to have aged ten years. He wonders if his face shows the same. He tries to find the words, opens his mouth to speak, but has no idea what to say. What does anyone say in this instance? _Gee, that sucks, but let's get on with the investigation? Hell no!_ They stand in a circle, a three-man ring of despair with a square the eye of the hurricane. Time passes. Minutes, days, years – he's not keeping count. It's Hakuba's voice that shatters the silence.

"This wasn't supposed to happen." Understatement of the year. "Whoever did this will not get away with it." Hear, hear. That's one thing they can all agree on. His killer will not go free, not even if they have to ask Kaitou Kid for help. Hakuba lets loose a hysterical chuckle at the thought. The Inspector raises his eyebrows, but the boy waves him off. A momentary lapse of emotions. Well, if ever there was an opportunity, now's the time.

Hakuba turns hawk eyes on the Inspector. "I want in on the investigation," he demands in a voice that books no arguments. Nakamori stares right back into those piercing eyes.

"Absolutely not."

Rage burns in those icy blue depths. "Why?" he growls.

"Because you're a kid."

Indignation drapes his frame. "What does that have to do with this?"

"I don't want any snot-nosed punk poking around in this crap!"

Anger taints his polite reply. "Well, you're ten years too late. I've been dealing with this 'crap' for half my life. Try again."

The volcano that is the Nakamori temper begins to spew. "Are you sassing me?"

"Just stating the facts. Like it or not Inspector, while I may not have professed to liking the boy, I still considered him a friend. And as a friend, I will not stand by quietly while someone else mucks things up!"

"Are you saying I'm incompetent?" the Inspector spits out in a cutthroat whisper.

Hakuba dares to face him head on. "I'm saying that for someone who's spent the last two years chasing Kaitou Kid and getting nowhere, you don't exactly have the best track record."

Nakamori's face burns red in rage. "Get out."

Hakuba stands firm, and defiantly crosses his arms. "Make me."

"Nakamori, do you plan on handing this case over to Section One?" The two arguing individuals turn as one to face Oogawa. Nakamori glares at his lieutenant.

"Like hell I will!"

"But homicide isn't in your directional jurisdiction. Are you qualified to lead this investigation?"

What is this, devil's advocate? "I'm not handing this case over to some apathetic cop who doesn't give a damn!"

"That's not the question."

"To hell with the question! This is personal Oogawa, or did the streets covered in my future son-in-law not say that clear enough?"

A smile skates along Oogawa's lips. "You think she'd have said yes?"

With just that sentence, the tension breaks. "Of course," Nakamori replies with a choked chuckle. "She's only been in love with the brat for years. I knew she was head over heels for the boy months before she did. Gods, Aoko! How the hell do I tell her?"

Surveying the scarlet sidewalks and broken body parts, Oogawa grimaces. "Not like this."

"Inspector," Hakuba's voice catches Nakamori's attention. "This is personal for me as well. I can't walk away from this." Nakamori is struck by the raw pain in his words. "He's my friend. There aren't many people who hold that distinction."

"We could use him," Oogawa chimes in. "He's pretty sharp. And this way we don't have to deal with that bumbling detective."

Picturing the 'Sleeping Detective' in his mind's eye, and his last altercation with the man, (which ended up with two broken ribs and a reprimand from headquarters) Nakamori sighs. "Alright, but we do things my way."

Hakuba loses that defiant edge in his stance, and smartly salutes. "Yes sir."

Peering into the crowds, Oogawa casually, _too casually_, poses a question to Nakamori. "By the way Inspector, who was that on the phone back there?"

Suspicious, Nakamori replies. "The hell if I know. I was sidetracked by this damn thing." He shakes the box.

"It wasn't Aoko by any chance, was it?" This time it's Hakuba who chimes in, eyebrows inching upwards in confusion, then alarm.

Nakamori feels his stomach plummet for the third time today. "God would have to hate me for that to happen. With my response, she'd be over here in a heartbeat. Why do you ask?"

The two turn horrified faces in his direction. "Because she's here."

"_WHAT!!!!_"

"Daddy? Daddy, what's going on?"

Eyes widening in mounting horror, the Inspector turns to witness his daughter making her way amidst the police tape. Her body radiates unease as she grapples through the carnage. A question dances in her eyes. His body goes numb as panic overrides his brain, not knowing just how he'll explain this situation. This damnable, damnable situation. He nearly gags as she shakes off something from her shoe. All the while, a little black box digs deeper and deeper into his palm.

Inside this earth-shattering box lie two things. One is a ring. 24 karat gold, filigree detailing with a small but flawless blue sapphire the same shade as a certain disreputable magician's eyes. The other is a piece of paper. Just a tiny strip, but tied around the ring in a paper bow. On this bow are written some characters. Not many, but enough to create one sentence. One question that paints this as ten times the tragedy.

_Nakamori Aoko,_

_Make a mistake with me?_


	4. Letter H: Humpty Dumpty

Okay, I was working on a fifty sentences piece, and one of the prompts wouldn't let me go. Before I knew it, I'd written over five hundred words and figured, nope, this doesn't fit the sentence parameters anymore. But it could be something else. So I stuck it here. I figure Humpty Dumpty sounds better than Helium anyways for the letter H. And I haven't written horror in quite a while...

No I don't own Kaito. But if I hadn't loaned those Goosebumps books to my friend Whitney back in elementary school, I'd own an unbroken run of books. And that series never ended.

* * *

Letter: H

Theme: Humpty Dumpty

Summary: Kaitou Kid-san sat on a wall. Kaitou Kid-san had a great fall. And all the Task Forces and all the policemen couldn't put Kaitou Kid-san together again.

* * *

Aoko hates thunderstorms – they always seem to knock out the power. She lays her candlestick on the dresser as she reaches for her pajamas. Looking up, a flash of movement catches in the corner of her eye. She whips around. Nothing. She lets out a nervous chuckle. Of course it's nothing.

She turns back to the dresser and moves for the second drawer. Halfway there, she stops. There it is again. A slight fluttering in the dark. Chills run down her spine. _It's nothing Aoko, get a hold of yourself._ She looks back, and sees _surprise, surprise_, nothing. _See? You're letting your imagination run away with you._ Shaking her head, she goes again for the drawer.

**_CRASH!_** A bolt of lightning illuminates her bedroom in stark black and white relief. In the brief flash, the mirror arrests her complete attention. There in the reflection is Kaitou Kid - Kaitou Kid gone horribly wrong. His suit is black, black as the night, black as sin, black like his eyes. There's no mischief behind that monocled eye, no laughter in that infuriating smirk. Nothing. He's _empty_, and that scares her more than anything else.

An ebony glove reaches out and before she knows it, he's caught her in his embrace. She's trapped between two iron bands that refuse to let her go. It's cold in his arms. He has all the warmth of a mausoleum. She shivers. It's also wet. Aoko looks down, and gasps. Kid's suit's not black.

_...it's Blood...._

Her mind shuts down and those flight instincts buried in the back of her brain kick in, but to no effect. She's like a fly in his spiderweb – the harder she struggles, the tighter he holds. She needs something, anything, a book, a clock, something she can use to break out, escape. Her eyes roam the immediate vicinity, and latch on the mirror. Again, she cannot tear her gaze away.

He's looking in the mirror. Gazing into the mirror with his dead eyes. She meets his stare, and stops cold. The void, the absolute nothingness in his eyes – it's haunting. Quite a counterpoint to her terrified gaze. He speaks to the mirror – _not her_ – in a voice without a soul. A half-murmured child's rhyme pours out.

"Kaitou Kid-san sat on a wall. Kaitou Kid-san had a great fall. And all the Task Forces and all the policemen couldn't put Kaitou Kid-san together again." A pause.

"So he killed them."

Ice runs through her veins. That voice, those words – _then this blood is?_ - she feels the urge to gag. Unfortunately, Kid's arms prevent her from bending over. She bites back the bile rising in her throat. Don't want to choke now. He's still staring in the mirror. She watches as his mouth moves closer to her neck. The puff of warm air against her ear sends shivers down her spine. Not the nice kind. His whisper breaks the silence.

"Now Kaitou Kid-san's come to see if you can put him together again." He smiles into the mirror, a grotesque marionette's smile without the puppeteer's strings to bring it to life. She watches the tears trickle down her face as his mouth returns to her ear.

"Fix him?"

It's the last thing she hears before he snuffs out her candlestick.


	5. Letter S: Sentence

_Um, wow? I'm updating this in less than a week? That never happens. (Checks the local river systems because something must be in the water to get me putting out like this.) But I guess you all are the lucky ones, ne? Benefiting from me and whatever drugs are floating around in the atmosphere..._

_But I digress..._

_Challenge time! Okay, here's the deal. I have 52 prompts. (52 cards in a deck, after all :3) Tell me where the prompts originate from. (Hint: They're all song lyrics – give me the song!) If you can get one suit correct, (That's thirteen people!) I'll write a fic of your choosing. Key words here being 'your choosing.' Nothing's off limits here, as long as we all acknowledge that I get to put my own spin on things. Get half the deck, and I'll write two. And if you happen to get the whole kit and kaboodle, I'll write three. Incorrect guesses will not count against you. (I'm not mean like those SAT graders.) So good luck! And broaden your musical tastes while you're at it!_

_No, Detective Conan is not mine. And I kinda doubt Gosho Aoyama has gone the fifty sentences route for new ideas..._

* * *

Letter: S

Theme: Sentence

Summary: A sentence is worth a thousand pictures.

* * *

**1. _The sound of silence_**

"MORTALS! WHERE IS MY SEX SLAVE?"

…

Kaito turns on his heel before he can open the classroom door. No way is he dealing with Akako after _that_ outburst. Besides, he already told her Hakuba's in England till Friday.

**2. _Some things are sacred baby, why have you gone and trampled them lately?_**

"No Kaito, not this time." Aoko pushes him off and walks away, leaving a crushed magician in her wake, staring at a scarlet rose as it lays dying on the sidewalk, much like his shattered heart.

**3. _C is for Cookie, that's good enough for me_**

_* blink *_

_…_

_* blink blink *_

_..._

She reads the note a second time. "Did my son really just leave me a heist note for the chocolate chip cookies?"

**4. _I write her letters, just a few short lines and suffer death a thousand times_**

Another crumpled paperball swooshes into the trash bin. Kaito takes out a new sheet and tries once more.

**_Dear Aoko, I_** -_ love, pine, perish without_ - **_bet you're wishing I could flip your skirt right now._**

He scratches the phrase out and throws this sheet into the bucket with the other forty-seven attempts.

**5. _I'll grab him by the collar and I'll holler_**

"HAKUBA!!!"

"Aaah!" Hakuba Saguru jumps in his seat at the unexpected yell by his ear. His annoyed glare is directed to one obnoxiously cheerful classmate. "What?"

Kaito smirks. "Nothing."

**6. _If ever I were to leave you, how much would I cry?_**

Poker Face has served him well these past ten years, keeping others from reading him like an open book, and it continues to serve its purpose, dammit. The one time he wishes he could just let go.

**7. T_wo men looked out through bars. One saw mud, the other stars_**

"Tantei-kun, what do you see on your end?"

Edogawa shoots Kid a dirty look. "Well, I've got a lovely view of the marble floor and cherry trim."

Kid turns around from his observations at the north-west window to Edogawa and his sulk. With only a trace of a smirk in his voice, he replies, "Can someone not reach the windowsill? If you needed help Tantei-kun, all you had to do was ask."

He has to quickly duck to avoid a soccer ball aimed for his top hat.

**8. _Life is a sleazy stranger, who looks vaguely familiar, flirting with a bimbo named Disaster at the end of the bar_**

"Hey Aoko, does that couple in the corner look familiar somehow?"

Aoko turns in her barstool to the corner indicated, where a rather enthusiastic pair are engaged in a rousing battle to see who can swallow the others' tongue first. She feels her ears turn red.

"Kaito! It's not polite to stare!"

He sticks out his tongue, and goes back to examining the duo. "But I think I know them. If I could just get a better look, I'd be able to figure out why they seem so familiar."

Aoko huffs, but glances back for a second look. The subtle illumination from a nearby patron's lighter briefly highlights the couple's faces. Aoko's eyeballs threaten to fall out of her head.

"**_Hakuba and Akako?!?_**"

**9. _We look back and in hindsight what seemed wrong looks more like right_**

Flat on his back, blood pooling beneath a now crimson cape, Kuroba Kaito spent his last moments on earth thankful that at least he never dragged Aoko into this, even if it cost him his chance at happiness. Better she be alive and hating him than dying under the stars.

**10. _There'll be no sleep for me tonight, the sheep I count are never white, they all turn out to be jet black and who's the leader of the pack_**

Kaito wakes up in a cold sweat, shivers racing down his spine as he pats himself down to make sure he's all there, and not a bullet-ridden corpse. It's a long time before he can shut his eyes.

**11. _Look in the mirror and stare at myself and wonder if that's really me on the shelf_**

Kaito stopped dead in his tracks. Eyes glued to the window display, he turned and softly, but quickly rising in volume, began to cackle for all he was worth. Aoko glanced down at her friend, then to the object of his unholy glee. She stood there dumbfounded.

"It's a Kid action figure!" Kaito gasped out between laughs, "with hang glider flight! And there's an Inspector Nakamori" _bwe hee hee_ "with colorful curse catch phrases!"

**12. _Some of them want to use you, some of them want to get used by you, some of them want to abuse you, some of them want to be abused_**

Kaitou Kid glared down at the bastard, card gun lodged against his Adam's apple. "Just give me a reason Snake. _Give me a reason_."

**13. _Oh I know these times are bad and it makes you wanna cry. Don't be sad, we'll get by_**

It's another heist night, another chance to steal, another chance to fail. But looking down at the Task Force, it's the first time Nakamori's not nipping at his heels. He's lying in a hospital bed, daughter glued to his side and two bullet holes healing in his gut. Kid grimaces, and swears it will be the last.

**14. _Would you stay if she promised you heaven (will you ever win)_**

Aoko held on to Kaito for all she was worth. "They'll kill you baka – you can't go out there! I won't let you!"

Kaito, _Kid,_ pulled easily out of her embrace. "They have hostages. I can't let those people die – they need me."

She turned tear-streaked eyes onto his own. "But _**I**_ need you."

**15. _Half time goes by, suddenly you're wise, another blink of an eye, 67 is gone_**

"When I was your age I had to fly fifteen miles through gunfire in a white tuxedo while stealing jewels the size of your head! You darn kids and your teleportation – making things too easy."

**16. _Give me an hour and I'll give you your dreams_**

"Nakamori Aoko, care to become my Lovely Assistant for life?"

**17. _I feel the adrenaline moving through my veins, spotlight on me and I'm ready to break_**

Feeling the excitement of the crowds, their eager faces alight with anticipation, a wild mob ready to devour any unfortunate soul daring to stand between them and their hero, Kid discovers his trademark smirk affixing itself into place. _Showtime_. He burst forth into the arena.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!"

**18. _And there's things in the Kama Sutra that they never do in Clare!_**

"Kuroba, just what _are_ you reading?" Hakuba asked his grinning classmate. Said classmate looked up from his reading material, a mocking smirk on his lips and a knowing gleam in his eyes.

"You know what? Never mind – I don't want to know."

**19. _The wheels don't stop, they spin round the clock, they send my son down to take my place_**

It was with shaking hands and a frog the size of Mount Everest in his throat that Kuroba Kaito buttoned up a navy dress shirt and scarlet tie for the first time.

**20. _Well that silver spoon of mine got stuck where the sun don't shine_**

"Why hasn't Kid returned that Sonata Sapphire yet?"

"I dunno, why you askin me?"

"There's nothing else to do around here. But did you see the footage of Kid racing out of the aquarium? He was bookin it!"

"Yeah, he was running like the Devil was on his heels. Do ya think maybe he dropped the jewel over one of the fish tanks?"

"Kid never loses a jewel. He's probably just obsessing over the shininess of it."

"The shininess?"

"Well, why else does he steal jewels?"

"_The shininess?_"

"Hey, I don't make fun of your theories."

**21. _Has darkness taken over me, consumed my mortal soul?_**

Sometimes, the lines between Kaito and Kaitou blurred, and not even the man himself could say which was which.

**22. _They say she just went crazy, screamin out his name_**

_"KAITOOOO!!!"_

Okay, note to self. Aoko is extremely sensitive on her left side. Explore that area (in _excruciating_ detail) more often in the future.

**23. _A little voice inside my head said don't look back, you can never look back_**

A young man looking no older than twenty-two stood in front of Gate A-26, plane ticket for Phoenix, AZ in his hand. An attendant glanced over his passport. "Wow, forty-six huh? What's your secret?"

Kuroba Kaito offered her a bitter smile. "I discovered the fountain of youth."

The attendant laughed like he knew she would. "Well then, Mr. Immortal, have a pleasant flight!"

Smile affixed in place, Kuroba nodded and walked through the gate, leaving Tokyo behind.

**24. _A thousand other boys could never reach you. How could I have been the one?_**

He doesn't know who to thank, but whoever graced him with the presence of Nakamori Aoko deserves their weight in jewels.

**25. _I want to hold you and touch you and taste you and make you want no one but me_**

"Don't think about him," Kaito growled in her ear. "Just me."

**26. _But I wouldn't shoot without a cause, I'd gun nobody down_**

"Why in God's name are you shooting me?"

"You asked for it."

"I did not!"

"Anybody who wears that much tweed is just begging for a paintball."

**27. _Let his bones never break and however they try to destroy him, let him never die, let him never die_**

Aoko clutches an omamori in tight, shaking fingers as she listens to the gunshots echoing through the plaza. A prayer escapes her lips in a feverish whisper.

"..baka be okay, baka be okay, baka be okay..."

It's far too long in her mind before the gunshots cease. But the silence that lingers is almost worse.

"...baka be okay, baka be okay, baka be okay..."

**28. _So I give ya that name and I said goodbye, I knew you'd have to get tough or die_**

"_Here Kiddie Kid Kid. Here Kiddie Kid Kid. Come out come out wherever you are..._"

A shrunken Kaitou Kid sulked. "That's not funny."

A taller Edogawa Conan gloated down at his companion. "Oh yes it is."

**29. _You got a real short skirt. I wanna look up, look up, look up_**

"Oooh, someone's getting adventurous today! Silk and lace? If I didn't know better, I'd think you wore those on purpose. * _**AWP! **_* What'd I say?"

**30. _Russian Roulette is not the same without a gun_**

One white loafer hovers above thin air, then another. They stand transfixed for one millisecond before gravity does the rest. The glint of a silk and steel hang glider lies forgotten twenty-eight stories above. It's Hakuba Aoko who finds the body, broken and hideous with a mocking smirk on that bloody face.

**31. _It's a thief in the night to come and grab you. It can creep up inside you and consume you_**

It's wrong, it's Wrong, it's ten thousand kinds of wrong but as Kid pulls Aoko in for another kiss, he can't help but revel in how _right _she feels in his silk-clad arms.

**32. _Wounds so deep they never show, they never go away_**

It's a ticking time bomb: Find Pandora before those bastards do, cart their asses into Nakamori's hands, tell Aoko you love her, all before this cancer in your lungs drags you down in a terminal finale.

**33. _If you take a love that's property of somebody else, that constitutes a capital crime_**

Aoko slams her front door and storms past the flock of reporters camped out on the sidewalk. She nearly bites her tongue holding back that famous Nakamori temper to the ridiculous questions nipping at her heels. It isn't until she reaches the school gates that she finds a small measure of salvation. She collapses into Kaito's arms.

Amused eyebrows look down at the limp girl in his arms. "Bad morning?"

Aoko groans. Understatement of the century. "Have you heard what Kid did last night?"

"I don't think anyone hasn't heard by this point."

"Ugh, I'm gonna kill him. I'm gonna strangle him with his silly red tie and choke him to death with that stupid monocle. Then make him eat his hang glider backwards."

Kaito laughs. "Sounds painful."

Aoko glares at her boyfriend. "You find it amusing that Kaitou Kid's making claims on your girlfriend?"

"Just a little bit."

"Why aren't you mad? You get ticked off if Hakuba tries to use your eraser, but if Kid claims to court me, you find it funny? Do I mean that little to you?"

"No, no, not at all! You mean the world to me Aoko, you know that! I just find this whole situation a little bit flattering."

Aoko looks at him confused. "Flattering? _Flattering?_" Okay, _there's_ that familiar fire in her eyes.

"Well yeah. Out of all the girls in the world, he picked my girlfriend to pursue. Makes me think I've got good taste."

"_...Kaito..._"

_Ah, hello mop. We meet again._

**34. _Strapless and sequined and cut down to there, stockings are garters and lace underwear, the guaranteed number to knock the men dead_**

If there is one thing Kuroba Kaito will never forget, it's the image of a blushing Aoko in **_his_** navy dress shirt. The Task Force still wonder why Kid skipped out on the heist that night.

**35. _It hurts to lay these reins aside_**

The monocle gleamed in the firelight, reflecting the blazing embers and crimsons of the funeral pyre as it warped and ultimately cracked in the fiery flames. Kuroba Kaito was a silent onlooker to the proceedings, Poker Face firmly entrenched except for the two tears sliding down his cheeks.

**36. _Don't be shy, be bold and cute! Show the boys your birthday suit_**

"Oh Aoko, I'm so glad you and Kai-chan started dating! Now I can bring out the baby pictures!" Kaito's mom hurries off in search of the family photo albums.

Aoko's eyebrows scrunch in confusion. "The baby pictures?" See looks over at her newly proclaimed boyfriend to see him fidgeting. "Kaito? Something you're not telling me?" He shakes his head, but a hint of worry glints in his eyes. Mrs. Kuroba returns.

"Ah Aoko, you have to see these! He's just so utterly adorable!" She begins to flip through the photo album at a pace that would put an Olympic sprinter to shame. "There's just so many, where should I begin?"

"Um Mom, perhaps we should do this another time?" Kaito suggests nervously. Mrs. Kuroba levels him with a Look.

"Now Kaito, I've been waiting years to embarrass you with baby pictures in front of your girlfriend - you won't deter me now." She returns to the photo album. "Hmm, where's that picture of you with Mr. Pickle? You absolutely loved that thing."

Aoko grins at Kaito. "..._snerk_...Mr. Pickle?.._hee hee_..." She's suddenly much more interested in that photo album. Kaito groans.

"_MOM!_"

**37. _I saw him crying, watched as he buried her in the sand. And then he climbed my tower and off the edge of me he ran_**

"No...Aoko! Aoko! Don't you dare die on me!" Kid's gloves bleed crimson as he shakes the Inspector's daughter, her head lolling back and forth. Blood gushes from a wound in her left shoulder, perilously close to her aorta. Her eyes struggle to stay open, but soon succumb to exhaustion. A breath leaves her lips. It's close to a minute before Kid realizes she hasn't taken another one. Poker Face shatters.

"AOKO!"

**38. _Would you do it with me, heal the scars and change the stars_**

On the other side of the mirror, it wasn't just one young man who pushed through the portrait to another world, but a mop-wielding young lady as well. There, two doves take to the skies and set the world ablaze.

**39. _Old loves they die hard, old lies they die harder_**

"Did I ever mean anything to you, or was that a lie as well?"

"Aoko, of course you -"

"I don't know you, do I Kuroba? _Kid?_"

**40. _LeFou, I'm afraid I've been thinking...A dangerous pastime. -I know_**

He wishes the Task Force would quit making quips about the pink smoke already. The wisecracks about his sexual orientation are getting old.

**41. _I've never lost in battle or game, I'm simply the best by far_**

Hakuba throws down his cards in defeat. "Is there any card game you _don't_ win?"

Kaito cocks his head and ponders a reply. "Well, there is one..."

Hakuba gathers the cards and shoves them at the magician. "Then deal the deck. I'm going to beat you if it's the last thing I do."

Kuroba looks at the detective wanna-be. "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

Kaito smirks. "Don't say I didn't warn you..." he cackles as he passes round the cards.

Two minutes later, Hakuba runs screaming out of the room. Kaito sticks his head out the door and to the baffled pedestrians, explains, "It's his first time playing Strip Poker."

**42. _Ah my heart is still in Scotland where the lasses woo the best. On some bonny hill in Scotland, stroking someone's bonny..._**

"Try it and die, Kaito."

"But Ao-"

"Try it and **_Die._**"

**43. _You and me and the devil makes three_**

A scarlet gem drops from nerveless fingers as it rolls along the rooftop's edge. Kaitou Kid gapes at the blazing jewel in shock. "It's you," a voice whispers on the autumn wind. "It's _You_."

**44. _Whenever I see someone less fortunate than I (and let's face it – who isn't? - less fortunate than I?)_**

"Ah Tantei-kun, cheer up! It could always be worse."

Edogawa Conan leveled Kid with a glare. "Pray tell Kid, how exactly could it be worse?"

Kid shrugged. "You could have been turned British."

**45. _I walked into your dream and now I've forgotten how to dream my own dream_**

It was an average Tuesday morning mop chase when he looked up and she took his breath away – figuratively _and_ literally. Damn, she sure has a killer swing.

**46. ****_I'd take another chance, take a fall, take a shot for you_**

"When I said I'd do anything for you, this wasn't what I meant and you know it!"

"Not my fault you weren't specific."

"But Aoko..."

"Just win me a goldfish baka."

_* Whimper *_

**47. _I'll paint you mornings of gold, I'll spin you Valentine evenings_**

Only Kaito would think to propose during a paintball fight. Any excuse to cause bodily harm to Hakuba and not be whacked upside the head at the same time. But how he managed to write out the question, she still has no clue. Must be good reflexes.

**48. _Some days I feel like shit, some days I wanna quit and just be normal for a bit_**

The golden edge glinted as it hurtled through the air to the opposite wall, it's cracked reflection a haunting centerpiece to the drowning soul above, the boy with the dying eyes.

**49. _A warrior who's so calm in battle even his armor doesn't rattle faces a woman petrified with fright? Right!_**

"Kaito, want to explain to me how my father ended up in a Playboy bunny costume during the Kid heist?"

"He he he...well you see, that's a funny story..."

**50. Y_ou'd better put your kingdom up for sale_**

It has not abandoned me, from where I first took flight

To the crown of bloody battlefields, then discarded out of sight

Reclaimed in happy circumstance, in a pattee I make my home

Cradled in a house of jewels where the dead oblige to roam

Until the brillig and half a tidal lunar come to pass

And while the fawkes are burning bright ebony shall become a king at last

- Kaitou Kid

**51. _I'll see you in heaven if you make the list_**

_I love you. _Those are the last words he utters in Aoko's ear before he pushes her out of the crashing aircraft on his hang glider. There are no more parachutes, his hang glider can only hold one and he'll be damned if he leaves Aoko behind to escape. Better she survive than some phantom thief. He watches her jerkily soar through the sky as the ground races up in anticipation.

**52. _A gentleman with a top hat called her out the other night_**

"I say Nakamori-chan, you're looking especially radiant tonight. Has some lucky rascal caught your eye, or are you just happy to see me?" Kid ducks to avoid a particularly vicious mop swing. He cackles. Heists with Aoko are so much fun.

* * *

_Alright, that was fun. Had a hard time deciding which song lyrics to use - I like too much music! But I do so hope you enjoyed my mostly drabbles with some sentences thrown in. (I can't do just one sentence - it hurts!!!)_

_Ahem._

_P.S. Anyone who can also figure out the heist note (what, where, and when) get a fic of their choosing as well. Come on Detective Conan Fans - Detect!_


	6. Letter V: Villain

_Okay, ummm sorry it's been so long? Summer caught up with me? Ailing grandparents needed my help and they had no internet? I had to move into a new apartment? Classes started and I had to puzzle out how to write programs in MATLAB? Pick your excuse and run with it. But either way, here's a new peice for Kaito. A bit more introspective and a lot shorter than normal, but I kinda like it. Here's hoping you do too._

_Oh, and Kid stole my rights to Detective Conan. If you see him on your computer, tell him I want them back. (I should have updated my Kidproof firewall, but NOOO~, I had to go get free cheesestix...stupid Kid.)_

* * *

Letter: V

Theme: Villain

Summary: Kid is a villain. And if he has any say in it, that's how he'll remain.

* * *

_Kid_, Kaito thinks, _is not a hero_. And looking down upon this tragic scene, he'll do whatever it takes to stay that way.

Heroes, in Kaito's view of the world, are the ones with the glory, the ones who will persevere through all their trials and tribulations to emerge victorious. The ones people will praise and idolize for years to come. No matter the obstacles, no matter the odds, heroes will rise triumphant. Nothing will hold them back. Take Kudo. He's a hero if there ever was one. Fighting with all his might to return home, bring down the bad guys, win the heart of his love. It's been so long and he's still trying.

Or to look at it from a darker perspective, heroes are sick men, warped and twisted in the head with obsessions uncounted. They'll stop at nothing to achieve their ends. Anything for the prize, no matter the price. Even if the results are not worth the loss. A win is a win is a win. How many laws has Kudo broken in his quest for justice? How many lies and deceptions has he paraded before the world? What is too much, too far, too wrong to make things right? Kaito doesn't know, and he thinks Kudo doesn't either. And that's terrifying.

Villains, on the other hand, have already lost everything. There's nothing one can take away from them to strike them to the quick. Destroy their ambitions, perhaps, but no more. Kaito would much rather never gain Pandora then suffer the loss of anyone else. He's already lost his father to be the villain – he refuses to attend another funeral.

That's the difference between heroes and villains – heroes are willing to lose. Give up a battle to win the war. Sacrifice one for the good of many. For a villain, it's all or nothing. Go big or go home. One hand to win big. Him against the world. He prefers those odds.

There's no way Kaito can see himself as a hero. A villain seeking redemption perhaps, but never a true blue good guy. A villain has already suffered the worst – there's nothing more for them to lose. Their own life for the greater cause, yes, but no more. A hero is constantly suffering. They teeter on the edge of disaster, one misstep away from annihilation. And prodding them towards the brink is one more life, one more hope, one more love cast into the fires. How long can a hero be stricken down before he fails to rise again? When will the line shift and the hero become a villain anew? For all villains were once heroes who failed to stand. Watching the young boy below, Kaito thinks he has an answer.

Kid's already the villain, and Kaito's perfectly happy with that. Sure, he's not a conventional villain, and he has a heart to lose, people to lose, hope to lose, but a bad guy is a bad guy. And the bad guys have it easy. Looking down upon Kudo, cradling the head of his departed love in his too-small hands, tears streaming behind fogged glass, he swears to stay that way. Kaito has too much to lose to turn towards the the path of the straight and narrow. He'll leave the heroics to those stronger than himself. He can't afford the price. He hopes Kudo can.

* * *

_Idea came from one of my favorite lines in fanfiction: "Heroes are sick men, warped and twisted in the head with obsession uncounted." - The Riddle of Steel by Negative Creep. Really makes you reconsider the definition of a hero. And my personal belief that if anything happened to Ran, Shinichi would go postal. Maybe that's just me, but I could see it happening._


	7. Letter P: Poem

_Okay, I really should be finishing my other oneshots in progress. (A Bibliophile, I know I promised you your fic almost two weeks ago ~ don't hurt me! It's coming, I swear!) But unfortunately, (or fortunately, depending upon your outlook) the poetry bug decided to grab me by the ear and whisper words of rhyme to pass the time. She tends to do that every now and again. So here's the product of her mutterings. Hope it doesn't disappoint._

_Detective Conan is not mine. I do not own a single line. Not a single word or phrase. To Gosho Aoyama-san give praise. _

* * *

Letter: P

Theme: Poem

Summary: What? Did you honestly think you'd escape a poem in this collection? ...You poor deluded fools...

_****_

* * *

**Five Minutes**

We're walking on eggshell, we're dancing on strings

Tip-toeing on tightropes spun from our dreams

Spinning in circles, speaking in tongues

Ignoring the elephant invading our slums

[|;)

You swing and I bounce, you jab and I duck

You tease with a mouth that I just want to pluck

Your hair whips in a frenzy, your eyes blaze with the fire

While I tease and torment to goad your black ire

(;|]

We're in a step one-two-three five minutes from twelve

The final dance number till the end of the spell

Cinderella's almost over, the truth bleeding through

But we pretend not to notice what we already knew

[|;)

I have my secrets...too many, too much

But I can tell you guess something in the tease of your touch

I don't know what to say, just what card to call

What trick to perform before this wall falls

(;|]

My heart wants to shout, cry from Tokyo Tower

My love for a blue-eyed Inspector's daughter

It's wishing to tell you, wanting to know

Could you feel something for this mischievous crow?

[|;)

Yet I keep my tongue silent, keep Poker Face true

Because I know to spill one secret the rest will fall through

And while you are many things: strong, wicked sharp with the tongue

You'd never forgive me for the lies that I've wrung

(;|]

So we'll just act our parts blindly, gamely muddling through

There's still five minutes till midnight in this tango for two

I'll cherish each skirt flip, each hair-raising swipe

As the clock edges closer to that damning good night

[|;)

And when that clock tolls and my clothes fade to white

When you discover the man who thieves in moonlight

When your heart falls to pieces with nary a sound

When blue eyes tear as realizations abound

(;|]

I know that it's selfish, but when that moment arrives

I hope that you'll give me a chance to explain my two lives

Why I steal, why I lie, why I mock your father a fool

Why I chase after some mysterious thrice cursed jewel

[|;)

And after that, I don't know, don't know what you'll say

(But I expect a mop will somehow come into play)

I just pray you'll allow me the chance to mend

the friendship I've broken, win back your trust at the end

(;|]

Because life's just not worth living without you as my friend

* * *

_...Oh, and "cursed" is supposed to be read as a two syllable word to fit the meter. For those of you who were wondering..._


	8. Letter R: Rhyme

_I did not mean to be away for so long...life kinda took over. So please, accept my humble apologies. And these cookies. You like cookies, yes? _

_And a bit of a warning: __ I'm coming to the realization that I have a love affair with rhyme. I would apologize for this if I felt it was a bad thing, but I don't. Viva la rhyming revolution!_

* * *

Letter: R

Theme: Rhyme

Summary: Kid's claimed the jewel, what a surprise. As for what happens next, you'll have to surmise.

* * *

Kid: (Bowing to the Task Force) "I think it's time I said adieu."

Task Force Member A: "You think we'll let you get away you screw?"

Kid: (Raises head) "A screw? You can't come up with a more creative name?"

Task Force Member A: "Why don't you give it a try, you scattered hair-brain?"

Kid: (Pauses)"Um, I don't think that's what you meant to say, but then what do I know anyway? I'm merely a thief in a silly while hat – who the hell goes around stealing in that?" (Kid starts, and tries to look at his mouth like it has run away from him.)

Kid: (Addressing his pursuers) "Anybody want to explain why I'm speaking in rhyme?"

Hakuba: "Perhaps you've finally lost your mind?" (Stops) "Hey, that's not what I wanted to say. Kid, what the hell was in that pepper spray?"

Kid: (Deny, deny, deny) "It wasn't me!"

Hakuba: (Indignant) "The hell it was!"

Kid: "You couldn't believe me just because?"

Task Force Member B: (Turns to Task Force Member C) "Okay, this is strange."

Task Force Member C: (Speaking back) "I wholeheartedly concur. Is there anything you'd like to say keibu sir?

Nakamori: (Shakes head) "Oh F***, Kid what the hell have you done now, you two bit flea griping excuse for a cow?"

Kid: (Holding up arms in an "I'm innocent!" gesture) "Don't look at me, I'm not to blame for all of us engaging in this silly rhyme game."

Hakuba: "Well who else could it be you blimey tart?"

Kid: (Happy expression on face) "I blame it on this work of art!" (Holds up Ruby)

Hakuba: (In a 'he can't be serious' tone of voice) "You're blaming the jewel?"

Kid: (Smirks) "It can't complain."

Hakuba: (Shakes head) "I think you've finally gone insane."

Kid: "That's a matter of opinion-"

Task Force Member D: (Butting in) "I second the thought!"

Hakuba: (Very smug and smirking) "I wouldn't suggest arguing – it'll be for naught."

Kid: "You know what? This is a little too strange for me. I think I'll just pop over to your house for tea."

Hakuba: "Hey, you stay away from my house you cad!"

Kid: (Mocking) "Whatcha gonna do about it? Cry to Dad?"

Nakamori: (Bellows) "Boys that's enough! Now go to your rooms!"

Kid: "Certainly Inspector." (Starts to run off)

Nakamori: "Oh *** Kid get back here you loon!"

Kid: (Pouting) "But you said you wanted me to go away..."

Nakamori: "In an escape-proof jail cell for an extended stay!"

Kid: "Well that simply won't do, I must protest. Even if you meant it merely in jest."

Hakuba: "Inspector calm down, he's goading your ire. Just think happy thoughts of him over a fire."

Kid: (Boggled, wide eyed stare directed at Hakuba) "Hakuba, you'd roast me?"

Hakuba: (Radiating pure British smugness) "I was thinking barbecue. With some coleslaw, baked beans, and a nice mutton stew."

Kid: (Gleeful grin)"Wow, you're wicked – I like you better this way! Want to come upstairs and play?"

Nakamori: "Don't proposition the boy you lout!

Kid: (Sullen pout, arms crossed) "...It's not like he doesn't know what I'm talking about..."

(Silence. Absolute and complete silence.)

Kid: (Oh shit face, arms waving everywhere) "No wait! I didn't say that!"

Hakuba: (Hand to head, sighing) "It's a little too late."

Task Force Member E: (Looking at Hakuba, pointing to Kid) "So he's who you hooked up with on your so-called date?"

Task Force Member Oogawa: (Voice shouting excitedly from among the officers) "Ha! I knew it!"

Task Force: (Everyone except Oogawa) "Oogawa, shut up!"

Task Force Member Oogawa: (Petulant whining) "But I won the bet...everyone pay up!" (Other officers grumbling, start grabbing for their wallets and pulling out bills)

Hakuba: (Indignant, looking at officers with pointy finger of justice aimed at Kid) "Wait just a minute – you think I'm dating this _**thing**_?"

Kid: (Sad pout, bottom lip sticking out) "You mean you're not? Am I merely a fling?"

Hakuba: (Temper rising)"Don't say another word, you, you..."

Kid: (Cat who ate the canary smile) "Man of your dreams?"

Hakuba: (Loses hold of his self-restraint) "You're a *** **** ****! *** *** **** with high beams!"

Task Force Member F: (Slightly disturbed and in awe of the half-Brit) "Inspector I think you need to curb your tongue. You've obviously been a bad influence on the young."

Nakamori: (Notebook in hand, hurriedly writing) "Ooh, that's a good line, need to remember that one."

Task Force Member F: (Sweatdrop) "Does anyone else feel like saying they're done? (Heads nod all around)

Task Force Member F: (Starts counting heads) "Okay that's everyone except for the blue cursing streaks. (To Inspector) We're heading out now. (To Kid) Kid, we'll catch you next week!

Kid: (Merrily waving) "See you in Osaka when the first stars alight! (To the two that are left) Now Inspector and Tantei, can't we call it a night?

Nakamori: "NO!"

Hakuba: "NEVER!"

Kid: (Fatalistically shrugs) "Well, it was worth a shot. Shall we resume the chase, though it will be for naught?"

Nakamori: "We'll catch you this time!"

Kid: (Raises one eyebrow) "Though it's down to two?"

Hakuba: (Confused) "Where'd everybody go?"

Kid: (Sighs and shakes head) "For a detective you really don't have a clue."

Kid: "Onwards?" (Looks at Nakamori and Hakuba, ready for the chase) "Onwards. Guess then I'd better run. You know this really was a lot of fun. See you later my koishii and keibu too."

Hakuba: (Yelling loud enough to be heard in Timbuktu) "I Am Not Your Lover!"

Kid: (Taunting) "That's not what Oogawa thinks of you."

Hakuba: "B***** B***** B******!" (Brazen bloody bastard!)

Nakamori: (Smacks Hakuba's head) "It's impolite to cuss."

Hakuba: (Indignant) "You do it all the time!"

Nakamori: "When you're at my age then fuss."

Kid: (Crossed arms, tapping shoe, waiting for the two bickering individuals to notice him) "You know I'm getting away..."

Nakamori and Hakuba: "Give us a minute!"

Kid: (Shakes head to get rid of the ringing in his ears) "I'll give you three." (To Hakuba) "See you later at your house for tea?"

Nakamori: "Quit teasing the boy!"

Kid: "But that's what I do." (Not-so-innocent leer) "Would you prefer I come over and play with you?"

Nakamori: (Foaming at the mouth) "You're going to shut up and you're going to run. Because you don't want to see you when I've had my fun."

Kid: (Pondering, ignoring Nakamori's efforts to grab him) "You know I think we've used this rhyme before..."

Nakamori: (Trying to grab thief) "Godd***** Kid I'll mop your face with the floor!"

Kid: "But my face is too pretty to be used as a tool."

Hakuba: "Really, too pretty? All I see is a ghoul."

Kid: "You take that back!"

Hakuba: "No, I think not."

(Hakuba and Kid start to throw punches, but it quickly descends into a schoolyard type brawl)

Nakamori: (Exasperated, shakes head)"This is the Kid that I've constantly sought?"

(Fight breaks up at Nakamori's words, and Kid, trying to look outraged at the insinuation with a cut upper lip and black eye, huffs and runs for the stairs. Nakamori and Hakuba, nursing a bloody nose, give chase.)

Hakuba: (Moaning to himself) "Why did everything go all bloody rhymey?"

Nakamori: (Barks back) "Just chase the Kid you stupid Limey."

_-fin-_

* * *

_Ah, the wonders that occur when I think in rhyme. It really is quite sublime. But now I'm afraid I must say adieu. For this chapter is over, finito, it's through!_

_See you next chapter – same website, same name. Perhaps I'll come up with something a little less lame._


	9. Letter W: White

_Okay, Sara? This is for you. It's not Moppin Molly, but consider it part of your belated birthday fic package. Since it's about two and a quarter months after your birthday, you'll get an extra fic on down the road. (Which will be Moppin Molly if I can get the plunnies to cooperate. And Saguru. He's being a bit of a story hog at the moment. And Moppin Molly is not about him, no matter how much he claims otherwise.) But anyways, I apologize for the tardiness, and hope you enjoy! Happy Belated Two Months and Nine Days Birthday!_

_To everyone else: Apologies in advance for the angst. You've been warned._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

Letter: W

Theme: White

Summary: The walls are white.

* * *

**xoxox**

"_White walls and ten foot ceilings  
__Harsh fluorescent lights  
__Am I just a prisoner here  
__Of my own device?"_

**xoxox**

The walls are white.

It's the first thing he notices when he opens his eyes. Their empty brilliance, so blank, so cold, cause him to wince in their reflection of the harsh fluorescent glare. Behind closed eyelids he catalogues what else he noticed in the half second his eyes were opened. White walls, in-track lighting, seamless floor, 10 foot ceilings, no windows, no doors. He'll have to roll over to see what's on his other side.

The first _thought_ that hits him is to wonder where the hell he is. Feeling light-headed and slightly nauseous (Just what did Snake hit him with?), he attempts to maneuver his arms under him to lift himself up. Unfortunately, his body is not cooperating at this time, please hang up and try again. Biting back a groan and an almost overwhelming desire to throw up last night's tonkatsu, he flops back to the floor. Daring instead to open his eyes a second time against the harsh light, he glances to his other side (same view, oh joy) and before the glare overwhelms him, catches a glimpse of himself. White nurse scrubs cover his arms. Same for the legs. On his feet are what look like cheap, five hundred yen tabis.

Shit.

The overwhelming brightness and nausea is completely forgotten as he focuses on more important issues, namely himself. Ignoring his body's complaints and pleas to just lay the heck back down, he sits up and does a quick inventory.

Clothes? Gone.

Monocle and top hat? Gone.

Card gun? Gone.

Smoke bombs? Gone.

Card decks? Gone.

Miscellaneous tools of the thief trade? Gone.

Emergency lock pick sown into underwear? (Quick check in pants) Gone.

Dammit. Irritation and a slight thread of fear worm their way behind Poker Face. The irritation is easy enough to understand and contain (He's Kaitou-friggin-Kid! He's not supposed to get caught!), but the fear not so much. It's bubbling up his throat in a tremble at this unusual predicament. A bullet wound he could understand. Lying dead on a skyscraper in downtown Ekoda is certainly within the realms of reason. Handcuffs, chains, threats, blackmail, yes. But this - dumped in a white coffin of a room, a nondescript change of clothes, no flunkies on guard (no door for that matter), no wounds, no threats, nothing but six blanks walls and silence. This is terrifying, if only for the possibilities. (Why would you lock people in boxes_...unless you want to forget about them?)_

…Subconscious, not helping.

But really, why is he not a chalk outline? Why is he not trussed up like a turkey on Thanksgiving and strapped to a steel table while a James Bond-esque villain lords above him with his death ray of doom pointed at his dashing top hat ranting on and on about his evil plans? Where's the ranting? Where's the pain? Aside from the nausea, he feels perfectly fine. Shouldn't the feeble-minded minions be beating him to a pulp right now?

For that matter, where are the goons? Looking around, it's readily apparent that he is the only occupant in the room. Shouldn't someone be watching him to make sure he doesn't escape? Not that he has anything with which to escape, but that's what the art of pick pocketing is for! How is he supposed to steal the keys out of here if there is no one to steal keys from? Someone might get the idea that they're not supposed to break out...

_*Mental faceplant*_

Well duh, that's kinda the point.

Okay, so he's stuck in a steel box, nothing at hand, no guards to manipulate, no windows, doors, or feasible air vents in which to crawl, break, or open to safety, no maligned demands or evil rants to ignore…

Hmmm, this could be tricky.

**xoxox**

_Oh riddle me, riddle me, riddle me ree  
__I seem to be caught in a trap you see_

**xoxox**

He's examined every inch of his cubic cell fifty-two times, and he has yet to find a chink in its armor. Without any gadgets at his disposal, he can't tear off the steel trim surrounding the built in ceiling lights, disable the electrical circuits, cause a temporary black out, and race out the door when someone has to come in to fix the problem. The door, cleverly hidden amongst the white-walled steel plating, is fully mechanized A36 carbon steel, hardwired into the very walls and appears to operate on a remote operating system. Sadly, that operating system seems to be on the other side of his cell. Can't exactly hack a door if you can't reach the keypad.

Now he knows what the inside of a safe feels like. Heh. This must be what it's like for all his heists. Too bad there's no Kid to steal him away. Guess this gem'll just have to steal itself.

**xoxox**

_If hope is a waterfall  
__I think it's being dammed_

**xoxox**

He's staring at the wall again. The glaring white wall within which the mechanized door is confined. This time he's going to catch whoever put him in this monochromatic cube and get out, regardless of any amount of knockout gas pumped in through the air vents. He will.

_He will._

Thirty-fifth time's the charm, right?

**xoxox**

_Would you rather be ignored by a crowded ballroom  
__Or invisible to one under an endless sky?_

**xoxox**

The silence eats away at his sanity one nerve-ending at a time. For a man who's always catered to an audience, been the center of attention, hogged the limelight, this lack of outside stimulus is torture. What's a magician without a stage, a performer without his adoring fans? What's Kaito without his daily mop chase? It sucks to realize how much he needs people, and he tries not to focus too much on Aoko and Mom when that thought occurs. It gets hard to breathe around the sudden lump in his throat.

He doesn't even have a deck of cards to occupy his hands and mind. He's always had a deck on hand for as far back as he could remember, red decks, black decks, floral prints, blue bicycles, anime, see-through, Miss February decks, the whole nine yards. More decks than he could possibly ever need or use in ten lifetimes, compared to his one. A deck for every occasion, every trick, every day of the year. Every sparkle in Aoko's eye. Every smirk on Hakuba's face. Every foul epithet in Nakamori's repertoire. And now he's down to none.

He'll catch himself occasionally shuffling a deck that isn't there, fanning out cards that don't exist in one of his vast repertoire of tricks. Laying out cards for a Poker Player's Picnic only to realize a second too late that there's nothing to change, no card to mark or slide. It pains him to think he might forget these change-ups, the subtle feel of glossed paper against his calloused fingertips. He misses what he took for granted so damn much. Heck, he's even tried to make a deck of card out of toilet paper and blood, but they always fall apart in the shuffle.

**xoxox**

_And if that diamond ring turns to brass  
__Momma's gonna buy you a looking glass  
__And if that looking glass should break_

**xoxox**

He wonders if he shuts his eyes if it all won't go away and when he opens them again, this will have been nothing but a bad dream. Just a bad dream.

_"Let me out, let me out! For the love of Kami-sama let me out!" _

Just a dream, just a bad bad dream.

**xoxox**

_Around and around and around they go  
__Where the hands stop, nobody knows_

**xoxox**

Time passes, one agonizing second, hour, day at a time.

_Tick._

_Tock._

_Tick._

_Tock._

It's beginning to drive him crazy.

**xoxox**

_I'm dying, won't you save me?  
__Or will you stand around and cry?_

**xoxox**

He's heard it said that isolation is a form of torture. To stick someone in solitary confinement, no interaction, and deprive them of their senses (no sounds, no colors, no smells, no one to touch) has been cited to lead to mental deterioration, depression, you name it. Stimulation is essential for strong mental health, and denying a person any sort of interaction is one way to break their will. Drive them insane. Leave them a broken shell on the floor. He'd like to attest the actuality of that statement.

He's losing his mind. His memories, to be more precise.

It started off slowly - a name, a fact, personal preferences or habits. Little things he'd always taken for granted but now scramble to retain. Things like the exact shade of Jii's hair, the pitch of Keiko's laugh when someone tells her a joke, the number of furrows in Hakuba's brow after he's dyed the Brit's hair flamingo pink. When he first realized he's forgetting, he stayed up for what seems like days, chanting their names over and over. Aoko, Hakuba, Mom, Keiko, Tantei-kun, Nakamori-san, Jii...the list goes on and on.

He feels like a drowning man clinging to the iceberg of his melting memories. No matter how hard he holds, they slip away one precious drop at a time in this time of global warming, shrinking his mind, his hopes, dipping him ever deeper into that sea of insanity.

He's beginning to think he'll never get out, never escape from this cement coffin. Too bad it won't be the last.

**xoxox**

_Tick, tock, tick, tock  
I think it's time I murdered the clock_

**xoxox**

Every time he awakes he repeats to himself his truths. "My name is Kuroba Kaito. I am 17 years old and a student at Ekoda High. My hobbies include magic, gymnastics, and rendering the term impossible obsolete. My best friend's name is Nakamori Aoko. We've been best friends since I gave her that rose under the clock tower. I love her. When I get out of here, that's the first thing I'll tell her. Then I'll sweep her off her feet and kiss her...or flip her skirt, it's hard to say. Hopefully she doesn't hit me with her mop. Her father is Nakamori Ginzo, head of the Kaitou Kid Task Force. He smokes Marlboros when he can get away with it, and curses something awful when he can't. His best epithets come out on heists. My father was Kuroba Toichi, the first Kaitou Kid, aka Phantom Thief 1412. I am the second. He was the best magician in the world, the Master of Illusions. My mother's name is..."

**xoxox**

_Tick.  
__Tock.  
__Let me off._

**xoxox**

As time passes, their faces fade. He doesn't remember whether Hakuba's eyes were blue or brown, if Nakamori-san had a mustache or a beard, how Aoko would part her hair. Keiko's nothing more than a name to him now, something familiar but faceless all the same. He knows her name because he should, not because he does. It's hard to explain. All he truly knows is his memories; his friends are slipping away like sands in an hourglass, falling through the cracks in the glass to disappear forever. Time is robbing him of everything, and he traitorously wonders whether it wouldn't be easier if he decided not to care.

One day he just breaks down, Poker Face be damned. _Let me out, let me out, let me go Home please, for god's sake let me out of here, let me out right now, right now, I want out of here now, goddammit, please, please, let me out._ His hysteric cries and broken sobs echo in the silent, sound-proofed room as he beats his hands into broken, bloody pulps against the walls, the floor, himself - anything and everything he can reach. But nothing breaks, no one answers. He's left alone an inconsolable wreck in the corner of his cubic crypt.

**xoxox**

_Tick, tock, tock, tick  
Time's running by, it's making me sick_

**xoxox**

As sanity slips through his fingertips, he clings to the memory of Aoko as his lifeline. Aoko, with her wild, unmanageable hair, her infectious laughter, her steadfast stubbornness, her inherent belief in right and wrong. Her hatred of the Kaitou Kid. Her ability to cheer him up when things are at their worst. The only one who could tell when something was wrong behind his Poker Face. The way she'd stamp her foot as she burned the gingerbread men every Christmas. The fire in her eyes as she attacked him with her mop. The bashful smile she'd grant him when he honestly complimented her. He clings to all these memories and more because she's the one who keeps him from teetering over the edge. He's always trusted her to keep him in line. Why not with his sanity?

**xoxox**

_How many sands are in an hourglass?  
How long does it take to tell the time?_

**xoxox**

Some days he ponders how long he's been in this cell. Days, months,...years? He doesn't know. There's no watch, no grandfather clock or tear away calendar for him to keep track of the seconds, minutes, hours passing by. _They_, whoever _They_ are, always scrub the walls clean whenever he tries to record the passing of time, meals, sleep. And he never catches them at it. He's pretty sure _They_ must drug his food, but he can't not eat. Okay, well he could, but that wouldn't get him anywhere. He has to be ready for when _They_ screw up so he can make his escape. (And he will escape…won't he?) So what if he loses his sense of time in the process?

He once tried to count the passing seconds...one Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi...figuring he'd become his own time piece, and actually got pretty far along (if two hundred fifty-six thousand, five hundred and ninety-eight Mississippi, is pretty far along) until he wondered exactly how precise his seconds were being measured. Could he state the time to the millisecond? (Two hundred fifty-six thousand, five hundred and ninety-eight point zero zero seven Mississippi, two hundred fifty-six thousand, five hundred and ninety-eight point six four nine Mississippi a British voice recites in his mind.) The thought has him breaking down in laughter and tears without knowing why.

He doesn't count the seconds after that.

**xoxox**

_It's in our dreams we know the truth  
__And in our waking we despair_

**xoxox**

He escapes his cell through dreams. Kuroba Kaito may be imprisoned within white-walled, soundproof, silent walls, but in his dreams there is nothing but color, chaos, orchestras, and Freedom. There, he flies through the night on neon-blue wings (not white, never _white_, he's sick of the color _**White**_) playing tricks and pranks to the delight of his adoring fans. Certain people (one cursing, one short, one...British?) chase him through the kaleidoscopic spectrum, but he won't be caught. He's Kaitou Kid. And Kaitou Kid always gets away.

In other dreams, he delights in chasing and being chased by a blue-skirted Valkyrie. With a simple flick of the wrist he flips her skirt to the heavens, catching a glimpse of the most amazing assortment of underwear ever imagined as she screams like a banshee for his head. A mop, her weapon of choice, comes swinging for his head as she screams obscenities he should be too young to hear, but he ducks and laughs and waits for the next attack. It's funny, her anger, the way her whole body lights up with determination as she swings with a vengeance, but she never asks for an apology. At the end of their mad chase, she always forgives him. Every time, with her beautiful, radiant smile. He loves to see her smile.

But not all of his dreams are pleasant. In his nightmares he runs: from the dark, from the shadows, from the enemies that lurk beyond the corners of his eyes. From the white, silent hands that seek to shackle him in place. Tear away his freedom. Lock him in an empty box and throw away the key. They show him his future, the endless days of monotony, silence, the screaming that shall never be heard. So he runs. He runs and he runs, desperate to escape that horrid existence, but he's always caught. He's wrapped in unbreakable chains and dragged into an ivory coffin, locked in with no way to escape. The air warms as he uses up his oxygen supply, banging on the lid screaming to be heard as the pitter patter pitfalls of dirt impact the surface as he's buried alive. These dreams leave him gasping for breath, heart-racing and adrenaline high, nail-bitten fingers curled into fists, leaving bloody crescent moon imprints upon his palms.

He can never fall back to sleep after these dreams, not with his fight-or-flight instincts on red alert, but he prefers these nightmares to the dream of his Valkyrie crying, sapphire blue eyes wavering in the onset of tears as she begs him in choking sobs to tell her who she is. "Who am I? Who am I?" she cries, she pleads but try as he might he can't answer. He can't recall. "I don't know," he whispers. "I don't know." This dream leaves him waking to tears and the feeling that he's lost something precious, something treasured.

_"Who am I?"_

_"I don't know."_

_**"I don't know."**_

**xoxox**

_The world is full of terrible things  
__Murderous kings, mafia rings  
And each day undoubtedly brings  
__Even more terrible things_

**xoxox**

There are many things that scare him - his confinement, his fading hope of escape or rescue, the drowning silence in the walls and himself, his slipping grip on sanity, the weathering of his memories to life before this spacious coffin. But perhaps what terrifies him the most is the uncertainty growing in him. The confidence in him that buoyed the truths he'd always relied upon. It's finally begun to crack.

He woke up from slumber just now and couldn't remember his own name. A name came to mind after a few hyperventilating seconds, but that lapse in time was long enough to make him question its validity. How can he be sure? How can he know that he's really Kuroba Kaito?

_Is he Kuroba Kaito?_

**xoxox**

_Yesterday upon the stair  
I met a man who wasn't there  
He wasn't there again today  
I wish he wouldn't go away_

**xoxox**

Sometimes he ponders whether it wouldn't be better to end his life, end the white and the silence, the monotony caging his soul. Anything has to be better than this. All he'd have to do is clog the toilet, jam his head into the bowl and let water and his lungs do the rest. But no, a voice always whispers in his mind. _No one gets hurt. (Not even you.)_ It sounds like a truth, a law, a vow. That whisper always stills his hand. He can't find it in himself to break the truth - it's the only one he has.

**xoxox**

_On the edge of insanity, I'm finally free  
__Too bad I'm so gone that I'll never see_

**xoxox**

There was fish in his lunch today. He stared at it for some time feeling like there was something he should remember, some vital intelligence or fact he should recall, but like most things these days, the memories slip through his fingers. He attacked it warily with his chopsticks.

Hmmm, not bad.

**xoxox**

_Some things are sacred  
__Raised up on high  
__When all else is forgotten  
__You'll somehow survive_

**xoxox**

Sometimes in his waking dreams, he converses with a tangle-haired slip of a girl. Her face is nothing but a blur, but she has the most musical laughter. He tells her all the jokes he can remember to hear that wondrous sound. It's the only thing he looks forward to in this endless monotony of white-walled silence.

**xoxox**

_Sweet Sanity left me long ago_  
_What do I do if she says Hello?_

**xoxox**

It's the noise that startles him. A foreign invader upon his ear drums, this click and swish that break like gunshot through the eternal silence. The sound of a mechanized door opening, not that he recalls. A figure stands in the doorway. Average height, nice curves, green fatigues (GREEN!), slim hand pressed against a wound in her left side. The other hand is pointing a gun in his direction. She appears on edge, frazzled - if her auburn tresses are anything to go by. Such a soft, tangled mane. It looks right on her. She glares in his direction. "Hands up and don't move! No funny business you hear me?" Her voice growls out the words with a note of restrained pain.

It hurts. Oh Kami-sama, oh Kami-sama, it hurts. The noise hammers like a jackhammer in his ears. Make it stop, make it stop. His hands instinctively come to his head, trying to block out the noise. The woman pauses, gun wavering as she takes in her surroundings and his attire. "Are you okay?" she asks in a softer tone. Too loud, still too loud. He shakes his head to drown out the sound.

She mistakes his shaking for something else. "Look," she murmurs in a comforting tone, "I'm going to get you out of here. I'm searching for someone, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I took a detour on the way. Do you think you can stand?" Her free hand reaches out for his wrist. The barest brush of fingers against his skin.

Warmth.

Sensation.

Physical contact.

His head whips up, hands pushing her away as he skitters for the corner, as far as he can get from this invader. Eyes warily watch as she picks herself up off the floor, confusion radiating with pain off her form as she turns in his direction. "Now why did you do that, baka?" she questions him. "I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm the good guy. Don't you want out of here?" She huffs, then winces at the pain from her left side. "Of course I find the obstinate one," she mutters under her breath.

The noise is still painful, jarringly so, but he's starting to get used to her voice. If it didn't hurt so much to listen, the sound might almost be pleasant. She _seems_ like a nice person. He raises his head for a better look in her direction. A dark stain (_Blood?_ A quiet voice murmurs with concern in his mind) mattes the shirt to her left side, bringing to light those curves he'd noticed on her before. Her throat tightens to hold in a sob while she presses against the bleeding wound. Her lips are a fine line in pain, apple blossom pink in hue leading up to cherub cheeks and eyes that are a study in sapphire. Brilliant blazing gems of a hue found only in 120 carat jewels. They sparkle, they shine, they mesmerize. He can't tear his gaze away, not even when those orbs catch him in the act.

An indrawn gasp. Those sapphire eyes widen in shock, disbelief, long-lost hope, water pooling in their azure depths. He hears the gun clatter on the floor. "Kaito?" she questions, she cries, she whispers. Tears begin to stream from those heavenly orbs. Eyes he can't tear away from, that he could gaze on forever. Such hauntingly beautiful eyes. The eyes of a Valkyrie, eyes of blue, eyes of a treasure to be cherished forever. He doesn't want to ever stop looking in her eyes.

She reaches out a hand towards his crouching form in the corner. "Kaito...Kaito, is that really you?" He backs away from that encroaching hand as far as he can. She pulls back stung. "Kaito, what's wrong?

"Who are you?" the words slip out quietly from his dry, chapped lips. Startled, he flinches and tries to peer down at his mouth. He didn't mean to speak, didn't know he could speak, but apparently his mouth has a mind of its own. But now that the question is out there, he is somewhat curious...

Looking up into her bloodshot, bleary eyes he whispers a question. Eyes widen, and water trickles down from her heavenly orbs, caressing the curves of cheeks frozen in grieving shock. She falls onto the floor, legs giving out from underneath her as his question takes hold. Those cherry blossom lips move in mimicry of words, but no sound escapes her pouting mouth. She's limp as a rag doll, all spitfire purpose extinguished in the wake of a storm. All that's left are horrified eyes frozen on his fallen form. Not knowing what else to do, what caused this reaction, he asks her his question a second time.

"Who's Kaito?"

* * *

…_Yes, I'm evil. Shut up._


End file.
